Page 24 of Madness

As I watch Lauren input her number into my phone, a thought hits me like a freight train. The tour. It's looming on the horizon, just weeks away. The excitement I've felt about it suddenly mixes with a new kind of anxiety.

“Lauren,” I start, my voice hesitant. She looks up, her eyes questioning. “I should probably tell you. The band, we're going on tour soon. For a few months.”

I see a flicker of something - disappointment? Concern? - cross her face before she schools her features into a neutral expression. “Oh,” she says softly. “When do you leave?”

“A few weeks,” I reply, hating how final it sounds. “I don't want this to end before it's even had a chance to start.”

Lauren's quiet for a moment, and I can almost see the gears turning in her head. “It doesn't have to,” she says finally. “I mean, if you don't want it to. We’ll see where this goes in the next few weeks. And then, well, there's always phone calls and FaceTime, right?”

Her attempt at optimism warms my heart, but I can't help but think of the realities of tour life. The late nights, the constant travel, the temptations... And Lauren has Roman to think about. How fair would it be to ask her to wait around for me?

“Yeah,” I say, trying to match her tone. “We'll figure it out.”

But as I lean in for another kiss, I can't shake the feeling that we're on borrowed time. The road has always been my home, my escape. Now, for the first time, I'm not sure I want to leave.

I push the thought aside, determined to live in this moment. But I know it's a conversation we'll need to have sooner rather than later. For now, though, I just want to savor this - the feel of Lauren in my arms, the promise of something new and beautiful, even if it might be fleeting.

As I watch Lauren drive away, a wave of conflicting emotions washes over me. The euphoria of the kiss is still coursing through my veins, but it's tinged with a familiar fear that creeps in at the edges.

I haven't felt this way since Chloe. The rush, the excitement, the potential for something real and beautiful. But with that comes the memory of loss, the pain that nearly destroyed me when she died. Am I ready to open myself up to that possibility again?

Lauren is different from Chloe in so many ways, yet there's a similar warmth, a kindness that draws me in. But where my relationship with Chloe felt like a whirlwind romance from the start, this thing with Lauren feels more grounded, more real somehow. Maybe it's because we've both been through so much, or maybe it's just the wisdom that comes with age and experience.

Part of me wants to run, to protect myself from the potential heartbreak. It would be easier to lose myself in the music, in the tour, in the familiar routines of the band.

Safer.

But another part of me, a part that's been dormant for too long, wants to dive in headfirst. To see where this could go, to allow myself to feel deeply again, even if it means risking pain.

As I stand here in the empty parking lot, the ghost of Lauren's kiss still on my lips, I realize I'm at a crossroads. The path of safety, of emotional distance, lies one way. The path of vulnerability, of potential joy and pain, lies the other.

And for the first time in years, I find myself wanting to take the risk.

I just hope I don't fucking screw this up.

I step into the apartment, the familiar scent of Connor's attempts at cooking filling the air. My roommate's head pops out from the kitchen, a grin on his face.

"Hey man, you're home late. I made... well, I'm not sure what I made, but it's edible. Want some?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I grabbed a bite at Sunny's."

Connor's eyebrows shoot up. "The diner? Dude, they closed hours ago."

"Yeah, I know. I was... talking to someone."

Connor's eyes narrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Talking to someone, huh? Would this someone happen to be a certain waitress you've been mentioning a lot lately?"

I feel a flush creep up my neck. "Her name's Lauren, and yeah. We were just talking."

"Just talking," Connor repeats, his tone teasing. Then his expression softens. "That's great, man. Really. It's good to see you putting yourself out there again."

I nod, grateful for his support. Connor's been with me through it all - Chloe's death, my struggle with alcohol, and now my sobriety.

"She's... she's something else, Con," I admit, settling onto the couch. "Smart, funny, resilient as hell. She's got a kid, you know? A little boy. And she's applying to nursing school."

Connor whistles, joining me in the living room with his mystery meal. "Sounds like she's got her hands full. You sure you're ready for all that?"

It's a fair question. One I've been asking myself a lot lately.

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